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The Legend of the Three Brothers
The Legend of the Three Brothers is a tale about the tragedy of the god-brothers Mardük, Paedün and Thoth, the birth of Death and the fall of the Land of the Dead, and the corruption of the demons and the Demon Realm, thus serving also as one of the Creation Myths. It has survived as an oral retelling throughout the ages as a campfire tale told by demons to their kin. Story Let me tell you a story of my people. Long ago, before your history even began, three brothers came to our world. Wolf wandered our woods. He had a fiery spirit, and would often aid the tribes in battle against monsters or pillaging bandits. Tinker stayed in our cities, where he delighted in studying our history and building magical items for us. Dreamweaver was perhaps most beloved. He was a bard, and traveled from village to village regaling us with songs. The brothers told us of your world, and of the conflicts that wracked it, battles of Sword and Hammer and Spear and Magick. Earth wept at the fighting, but there was naught she could do for her children. For indeed, it was the little people, the humanfolk who suffered most in these battles, even more than her dear fey themselves. The three brothers grew weary of the endless conflict, and came to our world, to a free people, ones they could guide and coexist with, not rule. Earth would not come, however, she could not leave her people. They kept our world secret from their brethren, and for many years, we were happy. However, it came to pass that the brothers' tribe convened with dire news. The realm of the dead had come under attack by a nameless shadow, and the brothers were sent to counter this threat. And indeed, a dark shadow had fallen upon the dead lands, and in the very heart of death itself, they found an evil beyond imagining. Desperately the brothers fought, but they were no match for evil incarnate. Sensing the hopelessness of their battle, Dreamweaver threw himself at the evil, buying time for his brothers to escape. Go, he yelled, go and bring Sword and Hammer and Spear and Magick and Beast and Dagger and Bull and Scales and Sea and Sky and Earth! And so Wolf and Tinker fled the realm of the dead, and went to the Sky Home where their brethren lived, and they beseeched them, please, you must come with us, together we must fight the nameless dread! But they were cowards, and would not come to the aid of Dreamweaver. Wolf and Tinker armed themselves as best they could, and returned to try to save their beloved brother. But it was too late. They found that Dreamweaver had fallen to the shadow, and proclaimed himself Lord of Death. Weeping, Wolf and Tinker fought Death. For years they battled across the darkened realm. In the end, Wolf and Tinker prevailed, and they imprisoned the Lord of Death at the heart of the realm of the dead. Never were they the same, however. Their brethren's refusal to help them weighed heavy on their hearts. Tinker and his children, the Lefein, began crafting weapons of war, fearing the day when Death would escape. Wolf's anger, however, was directed in a different direction. He rallied my people, saying we would come to the aid of the humanfolk and defeat their false idols, so that all may enjoy the freedom we did. Wolf's army was not enough, however. There was no way we could save the humanfolk. Wolf brooded for many days, until he came up with a plan. He would harness the dark power of the shadow and use it against the others of his order. When he revealed his plan to Tinker, however, Tinker was appalled. No, he said, I have already lost one brother to the shadow, I cannot lose another! Wolf became angry, saying that Tinker had forgotten the face of Dreamweaver, forgotten his sacrifice. Tinker said I do not want to fight you, my brother, but I cannot let you bring the shadow to another world! The brothers fought, and Wolf prevailed. He cursed Tinker, rendering him weak if he would ever return to our world, and banished him. Deeply the Wolf channeled the dark power of the shadow, and forever were we changed. We grew large and strong, but we were grotesquely disfigured, such that our former allies cried out in fear when they beheld us. Demons, they called us, and we slew them for their insolence. The Wolf was pleased with our power. My children, he cried, behold the coming of a new era! I am Mardük of Chaos, and the worlds will burn at my hand! See also *Death *Demon *Mardük *Paedün *Thoth *Unnamed Evil Category:Demons Category:First Age Category:Folklore